Knife in the Dark
by Ryou VeRua
Summary: There was a way that the spirit dealt with arrogant upstarts like Malik Ishtar. The real story behind the 'partnership'... and after. NOT A ONESHOT. Psychoshipping, for contest


**Knife in the Dark**

I love my conspiracy theories. X3 This is for a contest, but I'm going to continue it because, well, it's not like my other ones that I want to continue: I _know _what's going to happen next. And that's rare for me!

Since this is such a crazy pairing (freaking awesome... but crazy) I challenged myself to do it right and manage to make it plausible in the manga. Tell me if that worked, will you?

I think it can stand alone as a oneshot... Not that well, but it can. It was originally going to be a lot longer. Everything that was going to be in this oneshot is now going to be in later chapters.

**Disclaimer:** Plot's mine. The rest isn't. But it's a dream. :3

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**Best Laid Plans**

There was a way that the spirit dealt with arrogant upstarts like Malik Ishtar.

Bakura wore a sneer on his face, one of his favourites, and one that he had been forced to hide while in the company of his host's friends. He had seen many souls in his long life, though most he had forgotten; the pharaoh had by far the most impressive soul of them all, a labyrinth of endless doors and traps. But this one – well, Bakura would never compare it to the majesty of the pharaoh's, but it was imposing in its own right.

Malik had no idea he had invaded his soul, of course. The fool thought he had the upper hand just because he had information Bakura didn't have, holding it up teasingly just out of the spirit's reach and forcing him to work with a partner, a first in this lifetime. Bakura had already thought of how to punish him for this. Malik was too obsessed in his revenge to find out all the workings of the Ring and it would be his downfall. Supporting his bleeding host on his motorcycle while waiting for Jounouchi and the others to walk into his trap, he hadn't noticed a trembling hand wrap itself around the Millennium Rod for a few brief moments.

He couldn't help but lick his lips at the thought of betraying Malik and finally regaining the dark power. Oh, he'd play along with his games for now, but the moment he found out the secret Malik held, there would be a knife in his back faster than he could say 'God card'.

And so he began his search. The spirit began by the tablet hanging on the wall, making his way slowly across the room; through ancient scriptures and magazines filled with modern technology, in the brightest and darkest corners. And with every failure, he pushed down his frustration. Malik had no idea that he was here. He had all the time in the world.

When he reached the back wall, Bakura allowed himself a break. There were two pictures hanging on the wall, a man and a woman. He only spared the first one a glance. The tattoos on the man's face piqued his interest, but that was all. The woman, dark skinned with a serene smile playing at her lips, made him feel the way he did when his host had laid eyes on the pharaoh's vessel for the first time. A dark hatred rose in his gut as the feeling of familiarity washed over him. Bakura had no doubt that he had seen this face before.

It was in that moment that two things caught his eye. The first was the Necklace, glittering on the woman's painted neck; it seemed that there would be another use for having Malik around after all. The second was in his peripheral vision, a dark splotch that had _not_ been by the man's portrait before. Bakura turned swiftly –

And nothing was there.

He stared at the blank wall for a moment, and then, without warning, his face lit up with triumphant glee.

The soul would keep hidden what it wanted to keep suppressed. It was an entirely involuntary reaction, one that he had only seen to a large degree in the pharaoh's soul. From what he had seen of Malik so far in their brief encounter, Malik had found pleasure in plotting the pharaoh's death and watched with a sort of sick fascination when Bakura had sealed their partnership in blood. So he stared at the blank wall and wondered.

What is it that Malik was keeping hidden from himself?

Bakura turned slowly, facing towards the portraits again. It was there again, just out of his sight; a black door, with dark smoke wafting from within. This time he didn't turn; he kept it just barely in his peripheral vision, reaching out slowly with one hand. When he managed to grasp the handle of the door, he twisted sharply and yanked it open.

This time when he looked, it didn't disappear. Acrid smoke continued to drift from within the room, carrying with it the sounds of screams and terror. The spirit stepped in, breathing in the air tainted with overwhelming hatred and despair. Bakura couldn't help it – he laughed. It was beautiful. The room was shrouded in absolute darkness...

Except for a pair of wicked violet eyes.

Bakura hissed. How had Malik hidden himself so well? Was this a trap? He jumped back – only to hit the wall. Bakura felt for the door, felt for the handle that he _knew _he had seen coming in, but it wasn't there. He was locked in.

_Where are you going? I've never had a visitor before._

"Cut the crap, Malik!" Bakura snarled. The spirit was furious at the idea of being outwitted. How had he not sensed Malik returning to his soul? _How?_ "You caught me! Now what do you want?"

_What do __**I**__ want? You are the one who came to me._ He could see flashes of amusement in those eyes, and that angered Bakura more than his words.

"_What do you want from me?!" _Bakura roared. "I've pledged allegiance to your cause! I let you borrow my host!"

Chains hidden in the darkness crashed against each other as the owner of those eyes spat venomously, _What you've done with my weaker self has nothing to do with __**me – **__that weak thing that claims to be Malik Ishtar! I am the __**true**__ Malik Ishtar!_

It was the sound of the restraints that calmed his nerves, but it was this declaration that made him step closer, close enough to see a bit of the face that held those insane eyes, a face that was dark and seductive and dangerous.

_You can come closer. _As much as Bakura loathed listening to another's orders, his instincts as a thief urged him to have a good view of the potential threat. He took another step and this time he could see the bastard smirk. He paused to drink in the sight, memorizing every feature with calculated precision.

_Like what you see?_

"No," he snapped. It was a complete lie, and he knew it. Bakura had labelled Malik a lot of things, but ugly definitely wasn't one of them. If he had time to waste with such trivial things like lust, perhaps he wouldn't have so readily considered killing Malik – at least not before taking him to bed, willingly or not. In fact, now that his attention had been brought to the subject... Well, there was no denying it. This so-called 'real' Malik took everything the other Malik was and gave it his own dangerous appeal.

And there was no denying the extra attraction of the chains.

_Why did you come here?_

Dare he tell him? Was this thing so opposed to the one that kept it in his soul?

"I was searching for the secrets of... the other one that calls himself Malik."

_And then?_

Bakura watched him carefully for his reaction. "I'll dispose of him."

The dark Malik's laughter echoed around the small room. _We seem to be of the same mind. Let me make a proposition. What do you say? You must possess much knowledge of the items if you were able to infiltrate our mind. Teach me some of your magic and help me achieve complete control of this body._

Bakura could feel his smirk forming again. Working with this Malik behind the other Malik's back...

How _interesting._

"In return, I want the secrets Malik was keeping from me, as well the Rod." A sudden thought occurred to him, and he added, "I also want the Necklace. I saw the picture in the other room; I know that at least one of you two have a connection to its holder. Those are my terms, and I will not negotiate."

_Ah... You've seen sister dearest, then? I always did plan on taking care of her. _

"I don't care what you plan on doing with her as long as the Necklace ends up in _my_ hands."

Dark Malik laughed again. _You don't need to repeat yourself, I understand and I accept your terms._

How unintelligent could this dark Malik be? Whatever he was, he clearly wasn't a match for Bakura; why else would he be captured and suppressed in the depths of Malik's soul? He didn't seem to have any real knowledge of what was happening outside, or he would have realized Bakura had begun his betrayal of his other just minutes after forming an alliance. No, Bakura decided, the dark Malik posed no threat to him at all. Perhaps he could even use him... With four items at his side, he could easily overpower him.

"It's a deal." Bakura gave him a mocking bow. There was no reason to stay anymore, now that he had guaranteed himself victory. Now all there was left was to continue to play along with current Malik until this one took over. "Now if you'll excuse me, I do believe I have someone to deceive. I will be back."

He let himself fade back into the shadows of the room, and let himself, just for a moment, fantasize everything he would accomplish: All the items in hand, the Pharaoh and his friends dead at his feet, a world plunged into darkness...

And the dark Malik licked his lips hungrily as his newest pawn disappeared.

_I know you will be, pretty Bakura. I know._

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(And to all the other contest people, well, um... vote for me? Ha ha...)

Tell me what you think, and any constructive criticism is welcome. Seeya next chapter!

P.S. If people wouldn't mind looking at my profile poll, that would be great. I'm just trying to figure out my ficcing priorities... 4 choices per person. Thanks!

P.S.S. A present to people wanting humour.

**Bonus (Crack) Section:**

There was a moment of silence. They stared at each other, waiting. And then Malik struck.

"GOD CAR - _FUCK!_"

**End of Bonus Section.**


End file.
